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At last when the unknown was mounting to the fourth floor, he

suddenly started, and succeeded in slipping neatly and quickly

back into the flat and closing the door behind him. Then he took

the hook and softly, noiselessly, fixed it in the catch. Instinct

helped him. When he had done this, he crouched holding his

breath, by the door. The unknown visitor was by now also at the

door. They were now standing opposite one another, as he had just

before been standing with the old woman, when the door divided

them and he was listening.

The visitor panted several times. "He must be a big, fat man,"

thought Raskolnikov, squeezing the axe in his hand. It seemed

like a dream indeed. The visitor took hold of the bell and rang

it loudly.